


Saudade

by PaperHatCollection



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Angst, Eye Trauma, Fluff, I've never even played HL2, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Permanent Injury, brief reference to HLVRAI, vent crawling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperHatCollection/pseuds/PaperHatCollection
Summary: It had been a trap. It had been too easy.They’d known that going in. They’d thought they could outsmart the Combine, take the bait and get out scot-free. They’d assumed that the Combine would never just let them walk away with a stash of weapons and supplies like that, surly they’d never be that foolish-The Combine had taken Barney from them, they’d taken his sight, and then they’d given him right back.And there was nothing they could do but watch him break.-----“Good work, Gordon!” Kleiner announced, strolling into his office after Gordon, arms spread out to his side in victory. And it was then that Barney had noticed- there was a second name on Kleiner’s door now. One belonging to a ‘Dr. Freeman’. Huh. “And Barney, better luck next time, eh?”Barney had opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again and made a sound akin to a balloon losing air. Kleiner had waved him out of the office, chatting away about some new project he had to get started on, and it was only when the door closed behind him that it occurred to Barney he’d never even gotten to say anything to the new guy.
Relationships: Barney Calhoun/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 12
Kudos: 147





	Saudade

**Author's Note:**

> me: haha gay security guard and mute scientist go 'ow'

Barney didn’t really  _ remember _ learning how to talk- he didn’t remember much of his childhood, honestly. Just bits and pieces here and there- petting his dog, jumping off the swings, staying up late with a pair of binoculars searching the night sky for space ships. Definitely not when he’d been… how old were kids when they started babbling? Huh… whatever it was, there was no way he was recalling those memories anytime soon.

His mother, on the other hand, liked to talk about how a young Barney had learned to run before he’d learned to walk, and how he’d learned to walk before he’d learned to talk. In fact, she liked to tell lots of stories about when he was a kid and about zero stories about his late-teen-to-adult life. Stuff like when he’d put on one of her coats and dragged her purse around the house in circles, or the time he’d tried to ride their wolfhound around and instead let  _ himself _ get dragged as he held onto her collar. And, of course, the time he’d first uttered the word ‘aliens’ right before racing circles around the living room ‘til he’d tripped and broken his nose on a table leg.

Sounded like something he’d have done.

Anyways, since his apparent first word, he’d always been a talker. Talking to the characters on tv in the morning, to the other kids at the playground, shushed in class a dozen times and finally sent to the principal's office. It never stopped him. All you had to do was spend five minutes with Barney, and you’d know  _ exactly _ what kinda guy he was, what he’d had for breakfast that morning, and the name of the dog he’d had when he was a child. (It was Adelaide). And when he got older? He found alcohol just made the words run faster ‘til it was all slurred together.

Didn’t like talking? Maybe he’ll change your mind. Maybe it’ll open up a whole new branch in your life. Or maybe he’ll stumble away with a bruised jaw and a mental note not to bother  _ that _ person again. Yeah, sure. Sometimes he found those who didn’t appreciate a friendly conversation, or those that Barney would rather not converse with in the first place. Although, a few times, he realized silence could say more than his words  _ ever _ could.

Sometimes, all you had to do was say a few right words to get the other guy to start spewing words like a leaky faucet, and he jumped at  _ every _ opportunity life threw at him. Hell, sometimes he’d find himself talking about  _ other _ conversations he’d had, or some strange characters he was…  _ lucky _ to have met. Other times, well...

He found better things to do with his tongue, anyhow.

\-----

Gordon had always had a sharp memory.

It wasn’t perfect, but the human mind never was. That was part of its charm. He could remember sitting in a doctor’s office with his mother, the words said lost to a general mutter in the back of his mind alongside the noise of a fan and the smell of peppermint. He could remember a colorful office, with a woman sitting cross legged across from him, and flash cards waved in front of him as he was guided through vocal exercises. He could remember people talking to him, and playing music, and setting him up with play dates with other kids.

He couldn’t remember ever uttering a single word.

Not for lack of trying, mind you. He did the best he could with what he learned- he’d learned to make an S sound by blowing air out through his teeth, and a P from letting it  _ pop. _ He could click his tongue on the roof of his mouth, and whistle, and sigh with all the emotion he could muster. But anything involving the use of the vocal cords? Nothing. Zilch. Nada. He’d try to form letters how he was taught to, create sounds from the back of his throat, apply breathing exercises and listen to advice that adults gave him. It never seemed to matter, much.

Later in life, he’d learned that he had under-developed vocal cords, and it was never going to work in the first place. Finding that out- it had pulled a weight from his shoulders, and stripped away a layer of anxiety that he was just doing it  _ wrong _ that whole time.

Now if only someone had told him sooner.

Still, the lack of a voice hadn’t stopped him from finding other ways of communicating. He could write perfectly fine, for one, and his parents had even gotten a few whiteboards to place around the house for him. At school, he’d write down all his answers silently as the teachers largely left him alone, letting him read ahead and indulge himself in the subject matter at hand. Other times- in group projects, or at recess, or the cafeteria, he’d write on his arm with an easy-to-erase marker he kept on hand. His handwriting, by the way, had always been immaculate.

Then, one day, while he was still in… hmm. Pre-middle school, at least, he wanted to say. Still fairly young, all things considered, he supposed. He’d been sitting at his desk, when a teacher had approached him- it had been near or at the beginning of the school year, and the man had attempted to strike up a conversation with him in ASL. At the time, Gordon distinctly remembered he hadn’t known what that was. He faintly recalled the teacher being perplexed… what was his name again? He felt like he  _ should _ remember that bit, but the name kept escaping him…. Anyhow, the teacher had been surprised that Gordon hadn’t learned it yet.

Well… yet implied someone was planning to teach him, at some point.

He remembered getting on his home computer the moment he got back from school, searching for every bit of information he could get on the subject. Pictures and short videos and articles, a language that didn’t  _ require _ a voice at entree, something practically  _ made _ for people like him. And so, for the first time, sitting in front of that old computer, Gordon had taught himself how to  _ talk. _ He’d practised with the teacher at school, taught a few words to some of the other kids, had even managed to get his parents to remember a few signs, here or there. But more often than not, however, most of the people he ran into in his day to day simply didn’t  _ know _ any kind of sign.

(Which was weird, when you thought about it. It’s not like adults ever wanted kids to communicate in a quiet and non-intrusive manner to those around them).

\-----

Admittedly, the first time Barney had met one Dr. Gordon Freeman, he hadn’t thought the man important enough to pay that much attention.

He passed by a dozen white coats on every shift, every day, during every week.Could you really blame him for not thinking twice about a new face here or there? The only reason he’d broken off his normal patrol was ‘cause he’d seen Dr. Kleiner had locked himself out of his office again- it was far from the first time, and it would be far from the last. Barney had waved to the older man, only barely taking note of the new guy hovering around his shoulder. It’s not like the guy had spoken up to introduce himself or anything- just watched Barney and Kleiner make small talk, before and as Barney popped open the grate to the air vents next to Kleiner’s office, then disappear inside.

By all accounts, the vents made some pretty each traversal between locked doors. Major design flaw, if you asked him- state of the art government security system, keypads on every other door, walls reinforced to prevent anyone from breaking through- and a vent just three inches to the right could be used to bypass all of that without tripping a single alarm. Had Barney been more of a narc, he might’ve reported it to someone who’d have seen to it that the vents got the same kinda reinforcements as the doors had. Barney, however,  _ liked _ crawling around in the vents- kinda made him feel like he was in one of those old spy movies.

There was something about how deep Black Mesa was underground and the importance of air flow or somethin’ behind why all the ventilation was like this- whatever it was, it was pretty convenient

At this point, Barney would probably have the route to Kleiner’s office memorized til the day he died. Just had to make sure you didn’t cut your hands or knees on the sheer edges of the metal, and avoid letting the edges of his vest or holster catch on the top of the shaft. It wasn’t that long a trip, just one sharp turn and all he had to do was roll sideways to find himself on the floor of Kleiner’s office. The doc had stopped putting the vent cover back on some time ago- Barney wondered what he’d done with the thing. He supposed it must’ve gone back on whenever inspection time came ‘round. Barney pushed himself back up to his feet, hand finding the light switch in one well practised motion, eyes darting over the office for signs of the lost keys.

Huh. There was paperwork on the second desk- Dr. Vance had been moved to another station sometime ago, so that must’ve made that new guy Kleiner’s new partner. Hopefully, he learned to carry a spare key on him- or not, Barney rather liked his rescue missions here and there. Broke up the melancholy of the day-to-day grind. Moving his eyes further into the room- ah, there they were. Sitting on Kleiner’s desk, of course. Barney marched over tirumpietly, scooping up the keys in one hand and twirling them around a finger. He turned, facing the door and taking one step forward, then-

The door was already open. The new white coat was standing in the doorway, a triumphant grin on his face and his hair falling into his eyes. Then he’d pulled his hair back and up into a loose ponytail on the back of his head, reapplying the pin he’d removed to pick the lock in the first place, before marching happily into the office and plucking the keys from Barney’s hand. Had he not done that, Barney probably would’ve dropped them.

“Good work, Gordon!” Kleiner had announced, strolling into his office after Gordon, arms spread out to his side in victory. And it was then that Barney had noticed- there was a second name on Kleiner’s door now. One belonging to a ‘Dr. Freeman’. Huh. “And Barney, better luck next time, eh?”

Barney had opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again and made a sound akin to a balloon losing air. Kleiner had waved him out of the office, chatting away about some new project he had to get started on, and it was only when the door closed behind him that it occurred to Barney he’d never even gotten to say anything to the new guy.

Next time, eh?

\-----

The next time Gordon saw the security guard- Calhorn? Calhoun? Carhorn? He’d been too distracted at the moment to pay the officer much mind.

“No way!” Kleiner snapped, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “It’s in the  _ name! _ This shouldn’t even be up for debate!”

Currently, Kleiner, Vance, two scientists Gordon didn’t recognize, and Gordon himself had crowded themselves outside the door to one of the surver rooms- having been kicked out by those still trying to get some  _ work _ done- in the midst of the argument. And even if only half of the people involved could understand him, that didn’t stop Gordon from a consistent steam of gestures in his and Vance’s defence.

“Gordon’s right.” Vance said in his defense, “It has a  _ salad bar _ Kleiner, a  _ salad bar- _ and it even sells it’s pizza online, last I checked!”

“So?” huffed one of the random scientists- the one with glasses. “Black Mesa’s got a cafeteria, and I’m pretty sure  _ they’ve _ got cheap pizza and salad too! The bar can  _ not be _ that low!”

“Or maybe it is that low, cause you can have more than one bar at once.” the other rando scientist, the one with the fancy tie clip, huffed. “How’s we even  _ get _ to this point?”

“I can’t  _ believe _ you all!” Kleiner said, rubbing the bridge of his nose before glancing upwards. His vision trailed past the group, further down the hall, before he jolted forward and pushed tie clip out of the way. “Hey! You, Barney! Get over here, I know  _ you’ll _ see reason.”

“Uh…” Barney strolled over slowly, looking all the world like a man who’d just walked into a hallway he hadn’t realized he didn’t want to be in. “Um. What’s up doc?”

“Okay, okay.” Kleiner took a moment to breathe, rubbing his hands together- he probably hadn’t  _ meant _ to say that, but with Kleiner, who knew. The guard probably didn’t even understand. “So. Chuck e Cheese. Restaurant or entertainment center?”

Barney looked just about as confused as anyone dragged into this argument would look. He glanced around the small group, as if one of them would be holding the answer in their hands. “I… is this a trick question?” Barney asked, his… was that a southern drawl? What accent was  _ that? _ Whatever it was, it was twisted in confusion. “It’s an arcade, with like- carnival games and shit. So… entertainment center, I guess?”

Vance groaned, while Gordon shot some choice words Kleiner’s way for cheating, while Vance continued on to say “Ah, common! I’ve been in  _ plenty _ restaurants that had arcade machines in them- you still go there for the food!”

“Ah, but-!” Glasses sounded triumphant now, back slightly straighter. “How many kids do you know that want to go there for the  _ food, _ huh? They wanna run around and play games and… whatever else it is you do in those places. The pizza’s just an afterthought!”

There was a certain point where any sane man had to ask himself, is this  _ really _ what I wanna be doing today? Right at this very moment? Gordon threw his hands up, not really saying anything at all, and spun on a heel to walk away from what could be generously called a conversation. He kinda felt bad leaving Vance all alone on his side- but judging by what he could still hear behind him, the man was being heard loud and clear. A moment later, Gordon registered the sound of footsteps- somebody had come with him.

He glanced over his shoulder to find that security guard- Barney, approaching him. Gordon gave him a suspicious look, hoping he wasn’t trying to continue the argument one-on-one, but the guy just laughed and said, “So. Welcome to Black Mesa. Didn’t get to say that, last time we met.”

Gordon shrugged at him, turning to continue down the hall. Barney matched his stride and walked next to him, despite the fact he was fairly certain the guy had… patrol or something to get back to. Maybe there was a  _ really _ important door to guard? They reached the end of the hall, the left path spanning out fairly normally, while the right branched into two further hallways. Gordon didn’t know where he was going. He turned to the guard, gesturing towards the building around him and raising an eyebrow at him, hoping he got his point across.

“Yeah,” Barney said, glancing down the halls in front of them. “This place can be a bit of a maze, at times. Believe it or not-” he pointed at the colorful stripes on the wall, small text under each stripe listing out the various departments. “These things were only recently added. People kept getting lost left right and center before somebody had the bright idea to incorporate a guideline!”

Oh. Gordon stared at the stripes, only  _ just _ now realizing they wern’t purely decoration to color up the already drab halls, and felt pretty silly. Then he turned back to Barney, crossing his arms before pointing up at an air duct. It took a few more seconds for this one to sink in, Barney’s gaze flickering between Gordon and the vent in confusion before he realized what the scientist was asking him.

“Ah- yeah. I know, trust me. But um… it’s faster sometimes, you know?” Barney said. He shrugged, scratching the back of his head like he wasn’t normally put on the spot like this and didn’t know what to say. For the life of him, Gordon couldn’t figure out  _ why. _ “This uh… complex is a pretty big place- it can take  _ ages _ for anyone to get around to fulfilling help orders, so sometimes you just gotta figure your own way out. Ya’ know?”

Gordon tilted his head to the side for one moment, thinking, then found himself nodding. Yeah. Yeah, that sounded about right.

\-----

Black Mesa’s internet was real shitty despite the number of scientists working in the area- or maybe it  _ was _ the amount of scientists working in the area that had made it chug along so slowly. Maybe both.

Either way, Barney was determined to do this. Squinting at his computer screen, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, hands following around to the videos on his screen in the dead of night. His roommate had long since gone to bed, which Barney would need to be mindful of if he didn’t want to be dead on his feet come the morning. But surely squeezing in another hour of two couldn’t hurt…

Barney had never really thought about sign language before. He’d assumed that it was similar to the language it was based on- in this case, english, just with fancy hand gestures in place of various words. Instead, it seemed like there were a lot of words that just didn’t _ have _ any equivalent gesture, either absent completely or implied by whatever you were trying to say. (Given that his hands were starting to get tired, he could appreciate dropping a few unnecessary words here or there). And a lot of sentences seemed like you had to say them backwards- like, instead of saying he didn’t like his work, he’d have to say- sign ‘work, I hate’. Maybe.

Hopefully he could at least string together something even semi-coherent with a little effort and a lot of work.

He’d noticed, once, that the white coats had rubber ducks on their desks, that they’d explain their theories or code or whatever to. And sometimes, they’d realize a mistake or something doing that, and either strangle the duck or chuck it across the room. Barney had found a duck hidden in the back cabinet of their bathroom, and he’d been practicing talking to it in place of another person. The duck couldn’t respond back or comment on how it was doing, and Barney didn’t really feel like attacking it, but instead just felt glad his roommate had gone to bed already.

Maybe he needed a little more practice before putting it into use.Barney had always liked talking to people, and this was just a way to broaden his horizons, a little.

Even if he was broadening it for the sake of just one guy.

\-----

Gordon had learned quickly to carry a spare set of keys on him. He also learned that some days it was a nice wake-up exercise to take the vents anyhow, and other times they were just a plain nice shortcut or a way to avoid some crowds. He blamed Barney for showing him where all the key vents were located- and there were a few good ones he’d found on his own freetime.

Speaking of Barney- Gordon sometimes ran into the other guard in the vents- which was pretty awkward if they were trying to go in opposite directions (Gordon  _ did not _ want to know what that sounded like from the outside) and a few times had even raced each other. Today, however, Gordon had been taking a break for a moment- he’d locked  _ himself _ inside cold storage and needed to get out, only to chill for a bit once he’d gotten somewhere the vent under his hands wasn’t freezing to the touch. He was startled out of his semi-trance by a knocking on the side of the shaft, nearly giving Gordon a heart attack, before he pulled himself forward to peek through the nearest grate.

Speak of the devil. Barney was standing on a chair to reach the vent Gordon found himself in, grinning up at the scientist and giving him a wave. Gordon pulled himself forward and kicked the vent cover off, lowering himself out of the vent before just dropping to the floor. He handed Barney the vent cover so he could put it back for him, and as he did, noticed Barney still looked like he hadn’t been getting much sleep lately. Not that it seemed to have done anything to diminish Barney’s attitude.

Once Barney was finally able to jump off the chair to the floor below he ended up swaying for a moment, balance nearly lost, and making Gordon worry he was about to crash for real. Gordon had shot a hand out, placing it on Barney’s shoulder, but the guard just steadied himself and shook his head, then shot Gordon another face-splitting grin.

“I’m fine, doc, promise.” Barney said, brushing Gordon’s hand off his shoulder. And then he laughed, a twinkle in his eyes as he flapped his hands in front of himself, bouncing on one leg. “Hey, hey Doc, listen to- watch this!” Barney said, before laughing again to himself. Gordon was really starting to wonder if he should shove Barney into the vents so he could sneak in a nap on the clock, when Barney started to move his hands in a more recognizable way.

He spoke as he signed- probably because of deep-set habits when held conversations, voice giddy with excitement and delirium brought up from lack of sleep. What he said was “Hey fuck off man Chuck e Cheese is  _ not _ a restaurant.” but what he signed would probably have been more closely translated to ‘throw e cheese no restaurant’. Faintly, Gordon figured he could probably give Barney some pointers, but mostly he just stared at Barney in surprise and shock for a moment before annoyance overtook his features.

“Hey, Gordon, don’t OW- OW hey Gor stop HEY-!” Barney was still laughing, even as he threw up his hands to defend himself and stumbled away from the scientist now attacking him with his fists and open hands, occasionally throwing up sign so quickly that Barney really only grasped the general threat of harm from whatever Gordon was trying to say. “Gordon- hey, stop- Gordon, you’re gonna have to slow down there. HEY- hey I’m I’m still  _ learning _ this stuff man!”

And Gordon  _ did _ stop (eventually), taking a deep breath and staring at a spot on the wall behind Barney. His hands, by pure chance, had come to rest on the front of Barney’s vest, who still had his arms up to defend himself from further attacks. Gordon returned his attention to the other man now, taking Barney’s wrists in his hands, then slipping to hold the others hands, helping him form a new word that made Barney’s face turn pink from embarrassment. Okay, so he knew  _ that _ one- good.

Gordon smiled at him. He could work with this.

\-----

“Oh, how  _ dare _ he.” Calhoun muttered, hunched into himself and hands flashing across his chest. He’d pushed his half-eaten tray away from him, gaze locked on something on the other side of the room, seemingly completely unaware of the conversation between the rest of his squad was in the middle of having. Expressions flashed across his face from some unknown cause, shifting from one to the next as fast as his hands could move, and when Otis leaned back to scan the rest of the lunch room, he didn’t see why-

Oh.

On the other side of the room, squished into the back corner at a table full of white coats, was that, erm… that mute guy. The one everyone always seemed to be talking about lately. He was making the same hand signals Barney was, abit more openly. Otis turned his gaze back to Calhoun, who seemed to have not even noticed the attention currently on him.

“So.” Otis said, breaking the silence that had settled over the table. “Wanna share the gossip?”

Otis didn’t know if it was ‘cause he’d spoken directly  _ to _ Calhoun or what, but the other officer jolted at whatever trance he’d throw himself into, finally looking around the table. He seemed to realize that the rest of the blue shift had their entire, undivided attention on him at last, sinking into himself a little in embarrassment. “Oh uh- it’s nothin’.”

“Really?” Johnson asked, lifting a cup to take a slow, and somehow extremely judgmental drink. One of these days Otis was gonna… he didn’t know. Clear his throat loudly or somethin’ when Johnson did that. Ruin the whole vibe he was going for. Not this time, however, seeing as how Johnson was free to talk in his own time, finally lowering the cup and asking, “So, we don’t have to worry about you getting another write up, at least?”

Somehow, Calhoun squished himself even further into his seat. “...... No.” he said. “It wasn’t even that bad. HR  _ way _ overreacted.”

“I’ve never taken you for the kind of guy to gossip behind peoples backs, Barney.” Percy said, pushing what facility  _ called _ mashed potatoes around with a plastic spork. “What’s come over you recently?”

“It wasn’t behind his back!” Calhoun said, now shooting himself back up right in his defence. “Breen was  _ right there _ in front of us. I was talkin’ to him and everything. Not  _ our _ fault if he can’t understand what me and Gordon were saying- he even  _ works _ with Gordon, for peats sake.”

“Gordon?” Otis echoed.

“Dr. Freeman.” Calhoun corrected himself hastily, but too late. A few whistles broke out amongst the table, alongside a few hollars. Some of the other tables glanced over, but didn’t pay them much mind. Calhoun, meanwhile, had squished himself even further down into his seat. “Ah, common guys, it’s not  _ like _ that.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to get a special  _ someone _ in the barracks for the initiation.” Sanders said, throwing an arm over Calhoun’s shoulder. “Think  _ ‘Gordon~’ _ knows his way around a barrel, Calhoun?”

Calhoun groaned in annoyance, hiding his face in his hands. He was avoiding answering the question.

\-----

Maybe they’d have to put in some extra training later, cause seriously they could  _ not _ be worse than a white coat, but it was worth it for this exact moment.

“What the  _ fuck _ Gordon?” Barney asked, mouth practically falling open.

Gordon turned to him- overshot and had to turn back, one hand moving in front of him. And either Barney hadn’t learned this particular branch yet, or Gordon was just signing nonsense at him. Probably the latter. The fact that the alcohol had already managed to affect his hand coordination just made it even  _ more _ surprising that each shot thus far had been a bullseye.

Knowing Gordon, he was probably trying to say something like ‘it’s just physics’.

“I’ve never even  _ seen _ someone get this far without getting wet…” Sanders muttered, from where was was laying sideways on a table in the back of the room, nursing his… what? Forth beer in the hour? Whatever it was, Sanders had lost his own ability to stay upright, and apparently settled on the table rather than one of the handy dandy chairs. Strictly speaking, the goal was  _ supposed _ to be for Gordon to get drunk, but that had stopped the rest of the squad from joining in the fun.

Speaking of which, Barney was getting thirsty, but he figured he’d have to drag Gordon home once this was all over, so he grumbled to himself and stayed reluctantly sober.

“Hey… hey Cal… hey,” Percy stumbled into Barney at that moment, one arm grabbing at the latter’s vest in an effort to stay upright. Percy had always been a lightweight, Barney wouldn’t have been shocked if that was the guys _ first. _ “Have you been… you-” he paused for a moment, dragging his eyes to where Gordon was reloading his gun in one smooth, well practised motion. “Oh, oh yeah- have you been… you… taught smarty pants all this?”

“Pffft.” Barney managed to get out, before Harris interrupted them. 

“Oh please, I’d  _ love _ to see Calhoun shoot  _ half _ as well as  _ that.” _ Harris said, gesturing widley to where Gordon was raising the gon back up and unloading the next clip into the center of the target. “You’d better start getting pointers from  _ him.” _

Maybe Barney should’ve been offended by that- but honestly, he was too busy wondering if Gordon had some dangerous past he’d never told Barney about. This was the third gun they’d shoved into his hands, and he was still treating it as if he’d been  _ born _ with thing. Yeah, he knew guns were  _ designed _ to be intuitive if you had even the most basic idea of what you were doing, but like… there was a difference between  _ knowing _ something and putting it into  _ practised. _

And this was incredibly well practised.

Deciding that this had gone on long enough, Barney shrugged Percy off his shoulders and approached the booth Gordon was stuffed in, placing a hand on the taller- Barney wasn’t even that short Gordon was just  _ tall- _ man’s shoulder, easing the gun from his hands and placing it down on the table besides them. Then he spun Gordon around, pushing him outta the booth into the rest of the shooting range.

“Playtime's over, boys.” Barney announced, taking the step forward to get out himself, only for an arm to block his escape. He glanced up at Johnson questionably, then decided he didn’t like the look on that guy's face. “Dude. Let me outta this box.”

“Yeah, yeah, one thing first.’ Johnson announced. “Seeing as how Gordon passed with flying colors, it’d be a waste not to use this stuff one  _ somebody, _ you know?”

Barney realized what was about to happen right before they dumped the entire tub on his head.  _ Fuck. _ He didn’t wanna know  _ what _ they’d mixed in with the powerade to make it so… gel like. Barney sputtered and ran his hand through his hair- why hadn’t he  _ at least _ been wearing his helmet- and sent a glare Johnsons way. Not that the other guard noticed, with how hard he was laughing. Barney marched out of the booth, ignoring the splooching of his shoes, and dragged Gordon from the room.

\-----

It was rare to hear a tram running when the work day had already started- at least, it was if the tram was  _ entering _ an area. They were sometimes used to move materials around, but, when Barney cast a glance over his shoulder, it was in fact a worker car.

One with only one person inside. Gordon was standing inside the car, leaning against one of the poles as his eyes met Barney’s across the gap. Then Gordon raised one of his hands and- why was he signing lollipop at him? Maybe it was because of how early it was, but it didn’t occur to Barney what Gordon had been  _ really _ saying until the tram was nearly gone. He had just enough time to lean over the railing and send back a sign that needed no translation, just about able to see Gordon breaking down in laughter before the tram turned out of sight.

God, he loved it when he got to see Gordon laugh. The way his face lit up, and his shoulders shifted, and he’d lean forward as if the unheard sound was about to bowl him straight over. But this one didn’t count- he’d barely gotten to see it. He’d just have to come up with a better joke at work, he’d supposed- it’s not like any of them were going anywhere.

Barney turned around in time for the door to finally open for him- what was the point of these security cards if they weren't even gonna work right?

\-----

He wanted to scream.

He couldn’t make a sound.

The sight of those two military grunts, dragging Gordon’s limp body, laughing about how they were going to  _ kill _ him- it was going to haunt Barney for years.

\-----

Crowds of people got off the trains, and were sorted pretty much randomly. Barney had the ‘privilege’ of looking out for anyone he wanted to rough up, searching for for someone he could save instead.

He’d seen a thousand faces on this job, some faintly more familiar than others. But there was something… off about this guy. Something that itched in the back of his brain. Barney leaned closer to the screen, squinting at one of the few people that had gotten off the last train. He was wearing familiar civilian’s clothing, looked confused as hell, and-

Maybe it was the way he reached up and adjusted his glasses (glasses, he realized, who even still had unbroken glasses anymore?) or the way he raised up his hands and half signed ‘help’, seemingly without realizing it. Maybe it was when he turned directly towards a camera and Barney finally,  _ finally _ saw the face he’d seen in his nightmares for the last twenty years. Age had been kind to him. (Later, after he’d found out where Gordon had  _ been _ for the last couple decades, he’d joke that Gordon had been aged like fine wine). Maybe Barney had known from the moment he’d gotten off the train, but hadn’t let himself  _ believe _ so-

“I’m grabbing that guy.” Barney said to his partner, pointing at Gordon and standing up in one swift motion. “Don’t let him through the gates.”

\-----

Barney was rusty, and found himself moving through words slower than he would have liked to, and had to resort to spelling things out more often than not, but fuck that it wasn’t going to stop him from talking to Gordon for the first time in years.

\-----

It had been a trap. It had been too easy.

They’d known that going in. They’d thought they could outsmart the Combine, take the bait and get out scot-free. They’d assumed that the Combine would never just  _ let _ them walk away with a stash of weapons and supplies like that, surly they’d never be that foolish-

And then nobody had been able to radio in Barney.

They should have known better. Been there for him. He’d gone off on his own to check the perimeter. They hadn’t known it would happen. What they did was cruel, and it wasn't even  _ about _ Barney in the first place.

The Combine had let him go once they were done. They’d been afraid it had been a trick to expose their base location. It wasn’t even that.

They’d taken Barney from them, they’d taken his sight, and then they’d given him right back.

And there was nothing they could do but watch him break.

\-----

Somewhere, a door opened and shut again. A muffled click and creek and thunk of old wood. Footsteps. More than one pair. Voices. More doors.

Barney had heard, once, that losing one sense heightened the others. What the fuck did it matter, if he could  _ hear _ better? What did it matter if he could hear something digging around in the old walls- the scratching of tiny legs and pinchers and god-knows knows what else in this invested building, His fingers dug into the bandages wrapped around his head- he could  _ feel _ them, feel how tightly they were wound and were they had gotten soaked with- he could feel a hand on his back, a reassuring pressure that was probably Barney’s only anchor keeping him from spiraling even further into dispar.

He assumed the man comforting him was Gordon. After all, he hadn’t said a thing since Barney had woken and stopped screaming.

Someone had to be coming, right? Everyone in the base probably heard his screaming. Or maybe there was already somebody else in the room with him, and they weren’t making any sound. He only realized how heavy he was breathing when he felt another hand, on his shoulder this time, squeezing. He took one last deep, shuddering breath, then fell sideways into the warmth at his side. Arms scrambled to support him, hefting him up and into a more stable grip. He could feel the stubble of a familiar beard on the top of his head, confirming his susptions. Barney let himself go slack in Gordon’s grip, hoping the bandages soaked up any tears. It was bullshit, that he could still cry, after what had happened.

What they’d  _ done _ to him.

Finally, the door to this room- and it had to be this room, it was so  _ loud- _ opened, followed by two sets of footsteps. One heavy and slow, the other light and barely tapping on the ground. The familiar humm of a vort. Then, a moment later, a familiar voice.

“How is he?” Alyx asked, presumingly to Gordon. Gordon shifted Barney’s weight, and then there were a few moments of silence before his hands returned to Barney’s back. Barney resisted the urge to let out another shudder. “Okay. Okay. Barney, do you think you can sit up on your own?”

He didn’t want to. He  _ really _ didn’t want to. But he forced himself to push himself away and up anyways, wringing his hands together, wrists resting on his legs. The bed next to him shifted, creaked as Gordon stood up, and then his footsteps disappeared further into the room. Barney bit his tongue. The vort, presumingly, stepped forward, and a moment later he could feel that… essence or whatever it was washed down his back like a wave, seeping into his body, his head. He hated it.

“This injury was not for naught,” the Vort was saying, far closer than Barney thought he was. She? They? “It was done in malice, made to last.”

“So you can’t heal him?” Alyx asked. Normally she understood the Vorts cryptid rambles the best. But even she needed straight answers, now and again.

“No. I could heal  _ this _ as easily as you could grow a third arm.” the Vort confirmed, for once not speaking in ‘what-ifs’ and ‘always-was’. Barney wished they’d softened the blow, just a little.

Barney didn’t realize he was making a sound until he felt his throat start to ache. He curled further into himself, hands clutching his arms at his sides, biting his lip in an attempt to not let himself scream. That’s what  _ they’d _ wanted. To hear him scream. He’d refused- probably would’ve even impressed Gordon, with how quiet he’d stayed. Haven't even asked him for information. Just to hear him  _ scream. _

_ He’d been stationed outside the perimeter- meant to call in at the first sign of danger, send everyone scattering to the hills if anything even  _ looked _ like it was going to go wrong. And he would have- he really would have, had he even realized he’d been in danger. _

_ But he'd felt something watching him. That was the worse part. He’d felt eyes on his back and he’d brushed them off as nerves once he failed to find any signs of life. Done a loop around the perimeter, stepped further out then he’d intended making sure nobody came from their blind side- _

_ Wasn’t watching his own, as it turned out. Didn’t even know someone was there until he’d felt the  _ painshockburningfire _ of an electric rod in his side, sending him crashing down to one knee with a cry of pain dying in his throat, before something collided with the side of his head and it all went dark. _

“-ney! Barney!” Hands on his shoulders, a voice in his ear. Barney shoved away- and in doing so sent himself crashing to the floor, hitting his still bandaged side on the frame of the bed and leaving him to curl up in pain on the floor, hissing between his teeth. Wasn’t like he was in much of a position to defend himself anyhow, not even if the person he’d just pushed off of him had been his friend. He could hear Alyx kneel next to him now, her knees pressing gently into his back, her hand on his uninjured side.

“Barney?” she repeated, her voice softer than before. He’d have to teach her, some time, that you didn’t grab someone in the middle of a flashback and start shaking them. Right now all he could do was take in a shuddery breath, and push himself up (reaching out to the edge of the frame to make sure he didn’t bonk his head on it), and finally pull himself back onto the bed. He felt like shit.

Better than waking up tied to a chair in enemy hands, he supposed.

He faintly heard Alyx start to say something, but was stopped for… some reason. A moment later, the Vort spoke in her place. “His body may be recovered, but the wounds are deep and the mind is still trapped. Only time can pull himself from its grasp, but that is a resource that we are in limited supply.” more of that weird essence stuff washed over his body, and in response, Barney shuddered and curled tighter on himself. “In some ways, it may never. One day. But for now, he needs rest. And nourishment.”

“I’ll get him some food.” Alyx said, before there was a shuffling sound. Suddenly, heavy footfalls raced across the room, away from Barney, followed by Alyx gasping out “Gordon-!” before the door opened and slammed shut at the far end of the room. More footsteps, muffled by the walls and fading fast. Silence followed, and Barney could just imagine the two left in the room staring at each other- or at him. He  _ hated _ not knowing.

“I’ll… get you that meal.” Alyx said at last, seemingly after not thinking of anything to say. Her footsteps traced the way back to the door- slower and hesitant, as if unsure she should leave him, before the door opened and closed and took her away too. Barney wondered if he’d even be able to find it himself, or if he’d be left fumbling along the wall until he lucked into a door handle. Well- he supposed he could always ask the Vort, but he didn’t really feel like doing that.

Barney reached another hand up, feeling along the bandages, then picked at them at a place where they’d grown uncomfortable- something flakes up on his fingers and the bandages loosened a little, his stomach knotting at the thought of what it could be. Blood. Not like he had any reason to be  _ cryptic _ about it, of  _ course _ it was blood. He kept scratching, trying to get rid of the mess he couldn’t see, feeling more and more flake off until it wasn’t even  _ about _ that anymore, he was just scratching too- the Vorts hand landed softly on his own, startling Barney, before he felt his hand being lowered back down. He felt… mildly embarrassed.

“I will need to change your bandages.” The Vort said. “We can get you cleaned up while we do so.”

Barney felt himself nod, then let himself go still as he felt the Vort’s fingers do… something against the side of his head. The bandages came loose a moment later, before they began to be unwound. Barney wondered what he looked like. If it was a cool scar or a gross one. How deep the damage went. Then there was a wet cloth on his face, cleaning, pulling away a layer of sweat and grime and blood. He felt himself pull in a breath of air, but wasn’t sure what he wanted to say before the words were out of his mouth.

“So.” Barney began. His tongue felt heavier than normal. “Blinded for life, eh?”

“In some ways,” the Vort said, tipping up Barney’s chin and pressing the cloth against a cheek. It pulled away, followed by the sounds of fabric being sloshed in water, before the Vort resumed. Both cleaning and talking, that was. “When one door closes, another may open. Some unexpected, and others foreseen. For some, turing  _ inward _ is the true path towards-”

“Will my eyes ever work again?” Barney asked, cutting through what sounded like it was gearing up to be a big speech. 

“Ah. That.” The Vort paused for a moment. “No. Those have been lost.”

“Right.” Barney muttered. “Right. Should’ve known that, huh?”

He let his eyes close- guess there wasn’t much of a reason keeping them open, huh? And let the Vort dry up his face. It felt… he wished he could do this himself. Maybe later, they’d even let him! But for now his limbs were heavy, and he was… content to let the Vort wrap and secure fresh bandages around his head. The silence was cut by the sound of a door opening across the room, and a light foot falls across it. The clattering of a tray came to his right, along with a thunk of something being set down, and the aroma of food. Barney wasn’t hungry. He figured he should eat anyhow.

“Thanks, Alyx.” Barney said. He heard a gasp and a jump, and couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“How’d you know it was me?” Alyx asked, sounding as if Barney had just read or mind or something. Barney shrugged and reached out- he felt the edge of the table, then a tray, and grabbed where he knew a piece of bread would’ve been placed. All the rations were set up the same way. He pulled the bread closer to himself, picking at it slightly, hoping to get his appetite up to no avail.

“Unless Gordon took that heavy armor of his off, or you got some other poor schmuck to fill in for you- which isn't like you  _ at all, _ I’ve gotta say,” Barney tore off the piece of the bread with his teeth, forcing himself to swallow. “Who else would it have been, Alyx?”

“Oh. Um… fair point.” Alyx responded. The Vort was stepping away- he dimly picked up the sound of water sloshing, and figured it was cleaning whatever bowl it had been keeping the water in. 

Barney was still doing more picking at his bread than eating it. “So. Um. How’s Gordon doing?”

Alyx took a painfully long time to respond, during which Barney managed to force down some more food. “He’s… worried about you, Bar.”

“Don’t call me  _ Bar.” _ Barney groaned. “And I wanna know all of it- of course he’s worried for me, I’d be horrified if he wasn’t.” maybe that last bit came out with more venom than he’d meant to. He wasn’t in a very cuddly and fluffy mood right now, is all.

“Barney.” Alyx corrected. “He’s… I think he blames himself for not rescuing you sooner. Or… at all, really. Honestly, Barney, what happened was  _ scary- _ we could’ve lost you for good, and the only reason we didn’t is cause-” her voice cut itself off, and Barney was suddenly  _ very _ aware she was either trying  _ not _ to cry or she  _ was _ crying and he couldn’t see it. He probably couldn’t have felt more like an asshole right now. “They knew what they were doing. And now everyone else feels guilty for what happened to you.”

“Right.” Now Barney was just crumbling the bread in his hand. He couldn’t even see the mess he was making. “Cause I’m a big ol’ middle finger right to the whole cause. Hey! Look! We’re the Combine, and we can do whatever we want! Nothing you can do to stop it!” he had no idea what accent he’d taken on, or what experestion was on his face, but when he let it fall off his face kinda hurt from maintaining it. “Better me than one of the important people, I suppose.”

Alyx gasped, and she sounded like he’d just insulted Dog or something. “You are important!” she snapped, and he could imagine her posture in his mind's eye. Back straight, chest puffed out, chin up, arms crossed in front of herself. He’d been hanging out with her far too often. “You can’t just… go around saying stuff like that!”

“Maybe I was important when I was saving fellow rebels from the Combine’s clutches, or was there to spot Gordon- oh, and I gave him back his crowbar, I guess.” Barney shrugged, stuffing the last of the bread in his mouth and talking around the lump. “Bu those das arr long pa s-” he stopped to swallow. “But those days are long passed. Especially now. Not sure how much use I can be.”

Alyx made a sound like someone had just taken a wrench to Dog and undid some random bolts.

“You realize you’re so much more than that, right Barney? Most everyone is here thanks to you, and a lot of the boys look up to you.” She sighed, followed by a new kinda rustling sound- was she dragging her hand through her hair? “Some more than  _ others, _ mind you. You’re important to this resistance, and I doubt you ever  _ won’t _ be.”

“Cool.” Barney said. “Maybe you can put me on the front line and I’ll die a martyr- OW!”

He hadn’t been expecting her to slap him atop the head. He muttered something about kicking a man while he was down, rubbing his head. The Vort may or may not have snorted, but he couldn’t really tell.

“You know you’re hurting everyone else with that talk too, right?” Alyx asked- and had she not been crying before, she was  _ definitely _ crying now. A moment later and her footsteps raced across the room, out the same door Gordon had bolted from. Barney sighed and slouched back into himself. He kinda wanted to be alone, but he wasn’t sure if the Vort was going anywhere or not.

He didn’t like the silence, so he asked “Guess I messed that up, didn’t I?”

“Depends on what angle you look at it from. Perhaps it was an already teetering tower that would have come crashing down on its own, given time, or was already in the midst of falling.” The Vort said, unhelpfully.

\-----

Barney didn’t know what time it was, but whatever-O-clock was too early to be awake.

There was a major throbbing in his head- for half a second of consciousness, thought that he might’ve been hungover, before he realized that it was the wrong kinda pain for that.Then he became aware of other things- his side fucking hurt, there was a chill drifitng over his body, and he couldn’t seem to raise his arms. Which were at his sides at an angle, and he was sitting upright. And there was a pressure around his wrists, and chest, and ankles. Well. Wasn’t that just peachy.

Hint: It really was not.

Barney tried not to make it too obvious he was awake- hopefully he hadn’t done anything while before his mind had booted up enough to take control of his body, and he had it on pretty good authority he didn’t snore or anything. He tried to listen for any signs of life… but all he picked up on were the sounds of… pipes? Steam vents and dripping… water? A general… mechanic humming all around him. When he didn’t immediately pick up on any  _ people _ sounds, he let himself peak open his eyes. Then open them all the way, sending a glance around the room. Yep. Lot’s of pipes. Hadn’t seen this many in a room since he worked at Black Mesa. Also, couldn’t see a door, which probably meant it was directly behind him.

He wondered what the chances were someone was standing in the doorway, just outside his line of sight.

Instead of worrying about that- it was too late if someone was, and they weren't acting if they  _ did _ exist- Barney focused on what he  _ did _ know. Namely, that he was tied up to a chair in a place he didn’t recognize after sustaining injuries after a… he didn’t know. Failed? Successful? Mission. He hoped the others had made it home safely. He’d give anything to know they had. Well… maybe not  _ anything. _

Right. The ropes.

They were too tightly wound for him to get any wiggle room out of them, and the surface of the chair he was sitting on was smoothed and rounded. No sharp edges to cut the ropes into. He couldn’t move it either- bolted to the floor? Although he had a suspicion they’d left him with his pocket knife. Now if only he could think of some way to get to it- there was always a way out of these kinda situations, if you were clever enough to find it. His eyes traced the line of the pipes once more- he didn’t see anything that could help him, but it was worth a shot. And unfortunately, the ropes were too strong to snap by trying to force his arm up anyhow.

Okay. Okay, plan B then. He just had to figure out what plan B  _ was… _

A door flew open behind him- he could tell by the sound, the bright light that flooded the room- he hadn’t realized how  _ dim _ it was in here, and a flood of warm air before it slammed shut again. Barney blinked a couple times to readjust to the change in light, as footsteps worked their way around him and into his vision. They were slow, like clockwork, and when he looked up at the man who was in the room with him- he found a face he didn’t recognize, but felt like he should. A nagging familiarity in the back of his brain, a name on the tip of his tongue, but lost somewhere along the way. Maybe twenty years younger, the memory fresh in his head, and he would’ve gotten it.

“Sup. Come here often?” Barney asked.

The other man just raised an eyebrow at Barney, arms folding themselves behind his back. He was wearing finer clothes than you saw on the average civilian, though not by much. A simple suit. A working watch on one wrist, ticking away. Relatively clean. Barney’s gaze was brought back up to the (familiar) face by the man clearing his throat, but falling to speak. Barney raised an eyebrow back at him. “You’re not very good at conversation, are you?”

The man’s eyebrows knit together, staring Barney down, who was getting the distant impression he was waiting on something. Recognizing him, maybe? Honestly, he was racking his brain for the knowledge, but- geez, there really  _ was _ something about this guy ticking off some boxes in his head, but their labels had long since faded away. This was getting awkward. Finally, the man sighed and rolled his eyes, head tilting to the side with the motion as he shrugged his shoulders. “Would you recognize me better if I was wearing  _ blue, _ Calhoun?”

If it were a cartoon, a light bulb would’ve popped to light over Barney’s head. Maybe it was the grating, annoying better-than-thou voice, maybe it was the motion, maybe it was just the final nudge he needed, but Barney could suddenly see this guy twenty years younger, helmet and vest securely on, standing across the hall from him. “Johnson?” he asked, more surprised than anything. “You made it  _ out _ of that place?  _ Alive? _ And now you’re in the business of kidnapping people?”

“Oh,  _ please,” _ Johnson began, flicking a finger against Barney’s nose and sending him a cocky grin. “You’re too old to be kidnapped. I abducted you.”

“Fine.” Barney said, as he wrinkled his nose for a moment. “Care to cut to the chase? I’ve got places to be, you know.”

“Oh trust me.” Johnson said, continuing his walk around the room. Barney wondered where he’d picked that up from- he was as much of a prick as ever, he supposed. “Trust me, Calhoun. I know. We actually brought you here in hope of sharing a little message. If you wouldn’t mind being a doll and bringing it back to you friends of yours, that is.”

“So long as the message isn't my dead corpse… what did you have in mind?” Barney asked, a grin settling on his face like a mask as he continued so search for an escape attempt. Johnson had stilled somewhere behind Barney, however, and he didn’t like the idea he couldn’t see what the other guy- the other former guard was doing. “How was ‘betraying the planet and all of humanity’, by the way?” Barney asked, bitterness overtaking his tone. “Got much sleep, lately?”

“It’s worked out… fairly well.” Johnson admitted. There was something off about his tone, come to think about it, but Barney couldn’t put his finger on it. “Perhaps you should have tried it, been on the winning team for once. Hows having famous little Freeman back in your bed again, Calhoun?” 

Barney grit his teeth and said nothing. He supposed that said plenty in itself, seeing as how Johnson let out a short, clipped, and… staticky? Laugh.

He came back around in front of Barney, who was looking closer now. There was something  _ wrong _ with his eyes, the curve of his jaw, his shoulders. Something itching in the back of Barney’s skull. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Something  _ wrong _ with the grin on his face. “But like you said, huh Calhoun? Cut to the chase. I like that idea.” he said, lifting one arm. His sleeve was rolled up, exposing thin lines running along his arm, which Barney quickly realized probably wasn’t his real arm anymore. Not when the cybernetics spit open, pieces re-organizing themselves, metal retracting here and extending there. Barney leaned back as far as he could in his chair, eyes wide, as needle like claws traced the outlines of his face.

“I think-” Johnson began, the grin wider, the glint in his eye brighter. “That  _ this _ should send a message loud and clear, don’t you?”

\-----

The blanket had flown off his body before he even realized he was awake, panting and shivering and positive he’d been screaming a second ago. His head was fuzzy- thoughts swimming round his head in circles, leaving him struggling to grasp at anything coherent, and limbs didn’t quite seem ready to behave yet. His fingers were still twitching against the bed, dragging into the sheets, struggling for a purchase in the da- well. It might not have  _ actually _ been dark. How would he know?

But it was  _ quiet _ in a way that suggested it was… later, at least. Or early. One of the two. A point in the day when few people would be up and at ‘em. Barney’s fingers searching for where the edge of his blanket had disappeared in his rush to get it off and bolt upright, trailing along the bed before finding the edge of them- and bumping into the hand of the person offering it back to him. Barney jolted back, hand flying to his chest, and his heart jumping into his throat before it occurred to him it wasn’t a threat. 

He had to swallow several times before he could get the lump to go down, however. “I… S-sorry.” he said, his voice coming out rougher than he’d intended. From the recent sleep and… yeah. Definitely screaming. He felt the others hands in his, lifting them and placing a glass of- oh. Barney wrapped his fingers around the water glass, shakingly lifting it to his lips and taking a few sips, then a few more once those went down. He just about managed a gulp of water before he felt a coughing fit over take him, the glass disappearing from his hands and another hand being placed on his back. Barney forced his lungs back down to normal, eyes squeezed shut behind his bandages, listening to the heavy sounds of his own breathing. 

“... Gordon?” he asked, into the air, the silence his answer. Then he felt hands in his- rough, from years of writing and typing and wielding a crowbar like a deadly weapon, before they lifted Barney’s hands up and- oh. He felt along the edges of Gordon’s face, trying to rekindle what he remembered with what he was feeling  _ now. _ That classic beard of his, the shape of his jawline. The  _ shape _ of his face, the way the texture of his skin, his hair- Barney had one hand on the side of Gordon’s face now, cupping it gently, and the other running through his short hair. He wondered if he looked ridiculous right now. He decided he didn’t care. 

Instead, he leaned forward, snuggling himself into the crook of Gordon’s neck, arms wrapping around him and letting himself  _ break. _ Gordon’s arms wrapped around Barney’s shaking shoulders for a moment, before seeming to realize the other had no intention of letting go anytime soon. He gently maneuvered Barney back onto the bed, joining him, letting Barney curl up into his side as he pulled the blanket back over Barney’s shuddering form.

In the back of his head, Johnson’s words echoed in his mind. Barney mentally told him to fuck off and go fuck himself.

He wondered how long Gordon had been on shift for. He didn’t…  _ remember _ Gordon coming back, so it must’ve at least been after he fell asleep, right? He wondered if he’d been boring to watch, or if he’d tossed and turned in the thralls of a memory. He wondered if Gordon was getting the sleep he needed- that was what Barney did, normally. Made sure the star of the show went to bed, or fed himself, or stopped to care for his injuries. He wondered if someone else was gonna step in for him now that he was… or if Gordon was gonna have to learn to look out for his own back again. He wondered how the guy had ever made it through Black Mesa on his own. He remembered a limp, lifeless body, being dragged down the hall as laughter echoed behind him.

Barney shuddered.

Gordon ran a hand through Barney’s hair this time- pulling out some of the knots and straightening it back out. It was reassuring, in a way. Helped remind Barney where he was, right now, and not locked in another memory. Besides, he’d already replayed  _ that _ particular one more than enough. Instead, he let himself remember a time when his biggest concern was trying to beat his own personal records, or finding a new vent to crawl in- man. Things had been simpler than. He wondered, if you plopped him down in front of the door to Dr. Kleiner’s old office, if he’d still be able to do it. If the motions would come back to him- duck here, turn there, roll at the end- or if there were bits and pieces he’d forgotten over the years, ones he wouldn’t remember till he was already in the midst of attempting it. He wondered how differently it would be if he’d had to learn it now, or if he’d ever have tried at all.

What-ifs and maybes and possibilities- he was starting to sound like a Vort.

“You know,” Barney began, voice still grating on his throat. He swallowed once, dry, and continued, “I always kinda hoped I’d go out in a blaze of glory, like… something real cool, that people could talk about for ages to inspire the fight.” he could feel himself grinning, but it felt shaky, fake. “But uh… guess at this junction I’m more likely to get an infection and wither away, huh? What a pity. Waste of a perfectly good life. Could’ve… I…” he swallowed again. “Would- Would’ve been na- nice to have um, to have gotten to do ma- more, huh Gordon?”

There was a hand cupping his cheek, and then a forehead pressed against his. Barney remembered to let air  _ into _ his lungs. Right. Breathing. That was important. Barney let himself just  _ breathe, _ reaching a hand up to place over Gordons, letting himself pretend that, if only for now, that things hadn’t gone so badly. That someone would turn on the lights, or he’d open his eyes, or…  _ something, _ and he’d be able to see just fine. That he had patrol in the morning, and that Gordon was here just  _ because, _ and not because Barney was-

He let himself pretend. For as long as he could.

\-----

It got easier, the third lap around.

He remembered where the table was. Didn’t bump his foot on the edge of that one chair. Reached out to place his hand on furniture as he passed, confirming, yes. It was still there. Right where it should be. He picked up a marker from the board attached to the wall, rubbing his thumb along the cap before putting it back, this time  _ without _ dropping it on the floor. He wondered if anything was written on the board. He figured it was probably about him. He considered running his hand blindly across the surface, but decided not to. It was the kinda thing he’d do if he  _ knew _ what damage he was causing, how well people could’ve retained or rewritten whatever he erased.

He began a fourth lap around the room. At this point, he’d be doing parkour over the furniture in no time flat. He even considered opening the door and braving the halls outside- that would probably startle a few people, he figured. Gosh, he wished he could see the looks on their faces if he did that. He was, however, pulling from the thought by the door opening of its own accord- or rather, the people opening the door from the other side. Two steps of footsteps entered the room, one light and one heavy.

“Hey, Barney.” Alyx said. Barney hummed in response, trying to work through his mental map of the mood. He ran his hands over a table as he passed, making sure it was empty, and that there was nothing resting on or against the chair off to one side. He scooted it over a little to the left, nodding to himself. “Uh.” Alyx muttered. “Well, we’ve got a surprise for you today. We figured you’d probably be getting sick of being in this room all day, so the doc’s finally cleared you to go outside!”

“So what, is leaving my room a reward now?” Barney joked, doing one last loop to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be. 

“We- no, Barney.” Alyx sounded exasperated now. “It’s not- what are you even  _ doing _ right now?”

“Watch.” Barney announced, before setting off on his course. Vault over the couch, jump off a chair, roll across the table jump- his foot caught on something it shouldn’t have, sending him crashing to the ground with a loud  _ bang _ of something somewhere falling over. Oops. He shoved himself back up, hitting the top of his head on the table, causing him to fall back down. “Okay. Okay, you can stop watching now.” Barney finally said, holding the top of his head and face burning in embarrassment.

Alyx was wheezing with laughter, while the other person's footsteps trailed across the room to him before a pair of hands on his arm helped him up. Barney jolted a little when he realized it wasn’t the Vort, and he could  _ feel _ the way the hands shook from unheard laughter, a breath next to him wheezing in and out without sound. Of  _ course _ Gordon had seen that- he hadn’t recognized his footsteps outside the suit.

“Maybe some fresh air would do you good.” Alyx said, between laughter.

\-----

The sun… felt nice, he supposed. He’d finally stopped bleeding enough that the bandages had been removed completely, and according to Alyx most of the damage had been… relatively healed by the Vorts. Not by functional tissue, but uh… filled in, at least. She said it kinda looked like he had stripes. He’d asked if he’d looked like a tiger, but she didn’t know what that was.

He could ask Kleiner, but the guy would be honest to a fault.

Honestly, Barney wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing out here. He had one hand trailing along the chain link fence of the yard, following it round in circles and being careful not to trip on anything on the ground. Alyx and Gordon made small talk with each other, and Alyx occasionally with him, but…

Barney sighed as Alyx responded to a question. He felt along the chain fence, his hand briefly passing over a metal sign of some kind, then back to chain links. They rattled slightly when he touched them, and briefly, he was reminded of a time in Black Mesa, when he and Gordon had jumped the fence around the topside dormitories, and went out for a drink together. He smiled at the memory, before turning to the sound where he could hear Alyx’s voice, and a little away from her, where someone had been pacing in the dirt.

“Hey, Hey Gordon! Look over here!” Barney called over. The footsteps stopped and scuffled in the dirt, presumingly turning to look at him, and Barney began to sign in familiar patterns- before he faltered, losing track. Had to start over again at the beginning. Hit the same wall as before, the smile falling from his face, his hands stilling in front of his chest.

Oh. He didn’t remember the words.

“.... you uh, you okay there, Barney?” Alyx asked. Barney shrugged, then shook his head, fumbling with his hands in front of him. He couldn’t even see if he was doing anything right.

“It’s not- I mean it’s just-” He shrugged again, trying to smile but it felt  _ wrong. _ “I’m real out of practise with this, you know? Gordon was gonna help me relearn but uh- uh…” He gulped, leaning back against the fence behind him and letting himself slide down to the dirt. “Geez. Guess that’s out the window, huh?”

He let his hands droop over his knees, hiding his face in them. Alyx- it was harder to tell who was who with the dirt and grass muffling their footsteps against a backdrop of general rustling, but that was her hand on his shoulder. Gordon got a little closer, but stopped, still distiant. Barney wondered if he was still looking.

“Barney?” Alyx asked again, possibly just to say something.

Barney sighed and rolled his face in her general direction, mostly cause he’d be muffled anyways, and muttered, “Guess that’s it, huh? I really- I can’t talk to Gordon anymore.”

His voice broke. Saying it out loud felt like a betrayal, like giving up. But he couldn’t see any way out of this one. That was the whole  _ fucking _ problem, wasn’t it?

_ There’s always a way. _ Someone had told him, twenty years younger and a lifetime ago. 

“You still can.” Alyx said. “I’ll even translate for you.”

Barney put his head back in his arms.

Maybe if a Vort was here, they could explain why it was so different. Maybe it could wax poetic about things said in a conversation between two, or a lifetime of quirks and in-jokes and being able to speak for yourself. Maybe Barney could have found a way to explain himself, if he tried, but the words felt too heavy, stuck in his throat and nearly choking him on them. He could half imagine a few ways to express the thoughts, but the missing gestures were kinda the  _ important _ parts.

He could see it now. Meetings where people had to translate everything for him, tell him about every scrap of information delivered hand delivered to them and explain every little thing everyone else  _ saw _ unfolding before them. Or… you know, cut out the middleman and let someone  _ else _ come up with the strategies. They couldn’t  _ afford _ to lug around a liability, especially not when the resistance was  _ finally _ on the upswing.

At his free side, there was a scuffling and a thump, a body at his side. Barney didn’t bother to raise his head.

“He, um, he wants me to tell you something.” Alyx said. When Barney didn’t respond, she- or maybe Gordon, chose to forge on anyways. “He says… he knows what you're thinking, Barney... And this doesn't change anything…. You’ve been through so much and… you’re so strong, that’s what he’s always admired in you. He says-” and then her voice broke off for a moment, before resuming, but not  _ to _ Barney. “What is… oh. Barney? Can you look up for a sec?”

He didn’t see  _ why- _ pun unintended, but uncurled anyways, leaning back against the fence and letting his legs criss-cross under him. He felt hands on one of his, rough and callus and bigger than his own, raising his hand up near his face. Gordon had him hold his hands out, before making him lower his two middle fingers, then nudging the wrist into moving it back and forth.  _ That _ was one Barney was never going to forget.

“O-Oh.” Barney said. Not just from what Gordon had helped him say, but all of it. He hesitated for a moment, before reaching back out and finding Gordon’s shoulder, then reaching his other hand up to cradle the side of Gordon’s face, thumb briefly tracing along the cheek, the outline of the beard, before Barney leaned across the gap and kissed him.

\-----

Barney wouldn’t _ really _ say he was a creature of habit. Not in the traditional way, anyhow.

But it had become easier, as of late, if he always remembered to put things down in the same spot. Walked the same paths back and forth, had a rough idea of where everything would be before he’d even walked into a room. Alyx had even stopped (what she _called_ _subtly)_ following him around the base. For the most part. Barney liked to think he was also getting better at avoiding her.

His current attempt was foiled when she burst into the meeting room anyhow, having tracked him down god-knows-how, shouting out a happy-sounding “Okay, okay! I’ve found him! Geez!!” as she entered. She was followed by the familiar sound of the HEV suit as she bolted across the room to the table Barney was sitting at, dropping something heavy- a book? Down in front of him. Barney jerked back and up, raising an eyebrow in what he was fairly sure was her general direction.

“Good, you’re already sitting at a table. So!” she was giddy for excitement about something, as Gordon finished crossing the room to where Barney was, placing a hand reassuringly on his shoulder as he sat down next to him. “This was Gordon’s idea, actually- Hey, Barney. He said you used to like to sing, once?”

Barney’s face went pink. On the edges of his memory, he’d remembered singing some old songs under his breath as he’d walk his fiftieth lap on patrol, or listen to it bounce off the vents back at him. He hadn’t realized how far sound could travel down between the two. “You could…. Uh… say that. Why do you ask?

“Oh, I just wanted to know if it was true.” Alyx said. Barney was pretty sure he could hear Gordon shoving his head into his hands, next to him. “But I guess it could help with this- it’s kinda like… using notes to talk? It’s a code, apparently.” pages flipped. “I guess it’s more like a series of beeps? But you can use any kinda tapping for it. I think.”

“Wha-” Barney began, before something clicked in his head. “Wait. Wait, hold on. Are you talking about morse code?”

“Yeah, that!” Alyx said, along with the sounds of rapidly flipping through pages. “We’ve found a book all about it! Gordon uh, well. Gordon was hoping you’d be willing to learn it with him. Seems like it’d be useful, actually, surprised we aren't already using it. We don’t have the uh, weird thingy this book has on the front, that you use. But we do have pens, and a table to tap on, and Gordon’s suit makes a pretty good sound when you knock on it! I’m uh… I’m gonna have to learn this stuff with you guys, at least until you’ve got the basics down? Maybe?”

“Oh.” Barney said. He hadn’t really heard a word.

Gordon’s hand was on his shoulder again. Barney leaned into him and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Um. That sounds… like a good idea. Might uh… might take me awhile. I don’t pick up on things as fast as I did when I was.. Oh, half my age.”

He could feel a lough shaking Gordon’s shoulders, then a metal finger boop his nose. Barney wrinkled it, alongside more shaking shoulders and Alyx’s own giggling. Barney stuck his tongue out and rolled his eyes, before a well-worn grin wormed its way onto his face despite his best efforts.

“Alright.” he said. He knocked on the chest plate of the HEV suit, nodding to himself at the sound it made. “Let’s begin, shall we?”


End file.
